


A Hold Over Me

by yuletide_archivist



Category: Subarashiki Kono Sekai | The World Ends With You
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-19
Updated: 2008-12-19
Packaged: 2018-01-25 05:31:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1634099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For anti-social, world-hating Neku, finally realising that Hanekoma is CAT is like the last puzzle piece falling into place. The one person he can trust is the one person he has always been inspired by. But something. something seems to be going a little bit wrong here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Hold Over Me

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I know that it's not canon that Neku finds out that Hanekoma is CAT in his store, or that he even manages to talk to Mr H after he finds out. But I guess this is a bit of a 'what if' situation, eh?   
>  Some of the words in this story are taken from the actual script of the game, where Neku thinks about CAT.   
> Hope you like it! <3 I'm sorry that it's so short. I unfortunately didn't have enough time to expand it longer than I'd have liked to. I blame work. :( If you would like me to continue, perhaps I could! :D   
> In any case, have a merry merry Christmas! <3
> 
> Written for J Crew Guy

 

 

"You're... You're CAT?!" I exclaim in surprise, "You never told me that!"

He grins, a half-lazy smile that goes right through me and I swallow uneasily. "I mean," _Why do I need to explain myself?_ "You're my idol! Your graffiti speaks to me! It gives me hope, tells me to carry on!" I trail off, aware that I'm babbling and speaking in exclamation points.

"Thanks kid," He says, rubbing the back of his neck in his typical fashion. "It's great to know you like my art."

There's something different about the way he said that, but I can't place the feeling. _Is it... embarrassment? Or...?_

"Let's go, Neku," Joshua says impatiently from the door of WildKat, but I cannot bring myself to leave just yet.

"When... When can I see you again?" I blurt to the man behind the counter, and immediately curse myself as his cool, appraising eyes sweep over me.

Just like that, I feel naked, vulnerable. As if he could see right through me and read all my thoughts and insecurities. And just when I think I should attempt to laugh it off, he breaks into an easy smile, _such a warm, inviting smile_ and says "Soon, Phones. Soon." 

And in the background, Joshua just laughs.

* * *

Another day.

"What are you doing?" I ask curiously, sitting at the bar and fascinated by his long fingers working on our cellphones. Joshua is away somewhere, leaving me alone with Mr H and the smell of coffee at WildKat. 

"Mmm, you'll see," he answers vaguely, mouth pursed in a moue of concentration. My eyes can't leave his hands, the hands that work the art around the city, the art that kept me going all these years. 

My mind darts back to the time when I first found out that Mr H was CAT. Words cannot express the effect that CAT's artwork has on me. Words cannot express the effect that Mr H himself has on me. I knew he was different the moment I met him. The things he said, the things he did, it all clicked, it all fell in place. And I knew that CAT, and in turn Mr H was someone that I could respect. And strangely, the first person I could trust in this crazy world.

"Hey kid, what's up?" 

I'm broken from my reverie by his voice and I look up to see him watching me over his shades, lips twisted in a half-smile. The sight of his smile shakes me. How can anyone have such a hold, such an influence over anyone else? It's not right, not even CAT has that right.

"Hey", he says again in his laid-back drawl, "What's wrong, Phones?"

"Nothing," I mutter, "nothing."

"Gotta relax, kid. Cuppa joe?"

He reaches behind and grabs a mug from his counter. A rush of water, the clink of a spoon, and the comforting aroma of coffee; these are the sounds and scents I have come to relate to Mr H. "Here," he says as he hands the mug over, "On the house."

I reach out for it, and as I take the cup, our fingers touch. _And a thousand thoughts rush through my head, of him, of me, of CAT and of graffiti, and over it all stare his beautiful piercing eyes._ Electrified, _almost horrified_ , I let go and push back, sending the mug hurtling towards the floor to land in a crash of porcelain and coffee.

I am sprawled on the floor, trembling, and all I can hear is the loud, deafening, white noise of a tense silence and through it the dripdripdrip of coffee and the clink of porcelain. _How can you have such a hold over me?_

"Hey, you alright?"

He comes from behind the counter, _oh no, no, please stay away, PLEASE_ and kneels before me. "Hey", he says, "hey kid. Are you okay?"

My mouth opens, but I cannot find the words. He sits back on his heels and watches me for a while. _What are you thinking?_ And then slowly, deliberately, he reaches out to remove my headphones, something I have never let anyone else do. _How is it that everything he does to me makes me feel so defenceless?_ I feel the blood rushing straight to my head, and yet all I can do is watch him, waiting to see what he will do next.

"Neku", he says quietly, and again I am electrified, this time by the sound of his voice saying my name. "Neku, please say something."

"I...." _How does my voice sound to him? Does it go straight through him, the way his does to me?_ "I'm alright, Mr H." _I'm not, I'm not, please go away so I can be by myself!_

"Good," he says as he puts my headphones lightly on the floor, his eyes fixed on me, "So you'll be ready for this."

With his hands on my shoulders, he bends forward, and places his lips on mine.

_Cigarette smoke, coffee beans, cologne, the calluses of an artist, the gentle touch of skin on skin, all meshing into a brightly-coloured, graffiti dream._

When he pulls back, _reluctantly?_ I cannot help but start at the sudden emptiness of it all. I am gasping like a frightened child, my hands holding tightly to his forearms still and my mind is flitting around wildly. 

_What have I just done? No, what has he just done? And oh god, where the hell is Joshua and is he going to walk in on us looking like this?_

As if he can read my thoughts, _with his all-knowing, too serious eyes_ , Mr H gets up and looks towards the door. "He'll be gone for a while yet."

"Where is he?" I manage to ask.

Mr H shrugs, "Out running errands, he'll be back later."

Lies, I think to myself. Joshua would never bring himself to do something as menial as "run errands", but in Mr H's voice, the words become truth and I will believe him. _How can anyone have such a hold over me?_ The question repeats itself again, and again, and again. 

He holds out his hand towards me. 

"Come." A single word, but in it I hear promise, beckoning, longing. 

And then I get up, and follow him. 

 


End file.
